


two (blue) hearts locked in wrong minds

by cngkyns



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Angst, Childhood Friends, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-26 20:12:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18185210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cngkyns/pseuds/cngkyns
Summary: ▶ now playing: blue neighborhood - troye sivan (playlist)hyungwon and minhyuk fall at the wrong place and the wrong time.aka a montage of two childhood friends, growing up in a quiet suburb, who learn how to live and love from each other.





	two (blue) hearts locked in wrong minds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wingedseok](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingedseok/gifts).



> brief notes:   
> 
> 
>   * although irl, hw would be in the same school year as mh since he’s an early 94-liner (i think), i placed him in the year below in this fic
>   * caution: this is not a linear storyline!
>   * i experimented with the writing process & style a little bit, so it may be different than my usual. nonetheless, do enjoy the fic :)
> 


_[ We’re alike, you and I;_

_Two blue hearts locked in our wrong minds ]_

 

On the tenth day of summer vacation, a hot, July afternoon sun watches two boys perch on the large, mismatched boulders that line an empty shore. A harsh ocean breeze laps at their faces and whips their hair in all directions, caught in the rhythm of the wind, while golden sunlight bounces off golden sands and the peaks of clear waters, washing its hue all over the scenery as far as the eye can see. The cacophony of waves crashing against rocks, seagulls flapping in the air, and palm trees rustling in the breeze orchestrates the background music in the otherwise blue, tranquil silence.

One leg folded to his chest while the other stretches across the boulder below, Minhyuk dangles a blue-tinted popsicle stick in his fingers, too preoccupied by the white-and-yellow glimmers in the ocean to throw it away. A band-aid wraps the midsection of his index finger where he’d accidentally cut it the day before, and golden-brown speckles shine in his eyes when the sunlight hits them.

"Pretty, right?" he muses to the boy beside him.

Sights glued to the reflection of the setting sun on the moving waters, Hyungwon nods in reply. “Yeah.” He exhales a small puff of breath which gets carried away by the breeze. “It’s prettier in person.”

“I told you so.” Searching for the crumpled tissues in his pockets, Minhyuk wipes the blue, sticky remains of his popsicle on his fingers. Once they’re deemed clean, the tissue is wrapped, scrunched around the popsicle and tucked back into his pocket, so he can throw them away later. There’s no space for sentiment in throwing rubbish away as there is in the vast expanse of the ocean, he thinks, so he resumes staring at the view. “Do you like it?”

Hyungwon hums in thought. “I guess so. Better than I expected, at least.”

“See? This is why you need to go out more,” the elder chides, poking him in gently in the ribs. “This place has existed long before you moved in to our neighborhood, yet today is your first time visiting it. There’s so much more that you’re missing out on."

A discreet side glance. A raised eyebrow. “This is pretty, yeah, but...what’s there to miss out on if there’s nothing to look for in the first place?”

Minhyuk rolls his eyes. “Don’t you go all philosophical on me, you nerd. Say it in simple words so the rest of us can understand.” He pauses, releases a small, gentle sigh. “But seriously, Won. Come out more often. I’m lonely.”

“We see each other every day?”

“It doesn’t mean anything if I still have to go out by myself.” He nudges Hyungwon’s shoulder. “It’s summer. We only have a few months of freedom before you’re moving to your second year, and me to my third. Then I’ll start high school and you’ll follow soon after, and then we won’t have time to see each other again.”

Hyungwon frowns. “Don’t be dramatic. We have an entire year together left in school, remember? It’s not like either of us are moving houses, too, so I can still drop by your place anytime. Besides,” turning his head towards his best friend, he raises an eyebrow and points out, “there are about thirty other boys in the neighborhood who you can hang with. You’re easy to talk to and easy to befriend— why don’t you ask them instead?”

A distasteful nose scrunch pulls at Minhyuk’s face. “I already have you and you’re all I need. Why bother searching for someone else?”

“Oh.” Across Hyungwon’s face crept a shy, flustered smile, his cheeks bunching up together in embarrassment, the warmth of an incoming blush accentuated by the hot, glaring sunlight casted over his face. “Of course you’d be lonely that way. Don’t flatter me, Minhyuk.”

“I wasn’t trying to,” came the reply.

Minhyuk wasn’t.

  
  
  


_[ So can we make the most out of no time? ]_

 

The first time they met, Hyungwon had only spent four nights sleeping in his new bedroom tucked in one corner of an unfamiliar, yet-to-be-furnished house. Boxes of unpacked belongings, like favourite shirts, old comics, and childhood blankets lay stacked in all corners of the residence, decorating the otherwise empty space and bare walls. Dust from its uninhabited period clouds the air, clogs the lungs of its new residents, while harsh, unfiltered sunlight floods through the open windows where curtains have yet to be hung. Tired from moving boxes up into his room and unpacking his belongings for the past few hours, Hyungwon spent his noon staring up at the bare ceiling of his new room, mapping imaginary lands across the vast expanse of whitewashed space above him. It being a neighborhood in an entirely new city, their family had much adjustment to do: setting the Wi-Fi up, for example, which his older brother and his father have set on doing; or searching for affordable grocery stores nearby, which they'll do on the upcoming weekend; or introducing themselves to their new neighbours.

It doesn’t take long for the last one to be crossed off the list, though, because soon after, the doorbell rings.

From the kitchen where she had been arranging their kitchenware, Hyungwon’s mother sighs and places a stack of plates on the table. Several unpacked boxes, bubble wrap and tissue paper flood the tiled floor of the kitchen, so she simply can’t be bothered to wade through the clutter and open the door. Seeing that her husband and her eldest son were in the adjacent living room to figure the setup for their gadgets, she yells at the ceiling, "Hyungwon, could you get the door, please?"

Her shrill voice echoes around the first floor.

A muffled "okay" came from upstairs, followed by a door closing shut and a series of lazy footsteps dragging down the hallway. Hyungwon appears at the landing of the staircase moments later, dark brown hair mussed by hours of rolling in bed and staring at the ceiling. Three minutes pass as he approaches the door at his snail’s pace, in which the guest finds time to ring the doorbell once more.

"Coming!" he shouts.

Hyungwon opens the door to a young boy, approximately his age, standing on the steps to his home. A tuft of light brown hair sits atop a cheerful face, expectant eyes staring straight back at him. The boy’s thin frame peeks from the corners of a loose, stained T-shirt, bony knees exposed beneath the hem of his baggy shorts, and a faint cut curves along his left calf.

Neither of them say a word for a moment, both stunned at the unexpected appearance on the other side of the door, and then the new boy holds his hand out, a bubbly voice greeting him with, "Hi! You're the new neighbour, right?"

Hyungwon stares down at the hand. "Um...yes?"

"I'm Lee Minhyuk! I live down the street over there." Minhyuk points in the general direction to his right, where a row of modest homes with empty yards stood at equal distance from each other. One of them had a string of clothes hanging on their clothesline, unmoving and still in the air, and another had a bed of roses swaying by themselves. Grabbing the other boy’s hand, Minhyuk bounces it up and down in vigour. "Nice to meet you!"

It being his first time witnessing such enthusiasm from a complete stranger, Hyungwon is momentarily stunned. "I'm...I'm Chae Hyungwon. Nice to meet you, too."

"Do you wanna play together?"

"Huh?"

Releasing their hands, Minhyuk jabs his thumb to the quiet roads and lane of houses behind him, a shiny, red bicycle leaning against Hyungwon's picket fence. It must be his."There's a park on the other side of the neighborhood where I normally play alone, but I saw you moving in the other day and I thought I'd invite you, too."

"O-oh." Barely three minutes had passed since they first met, and this boy was already asking Hyungwon to play with him. Though Minhyuk seems to be about his age and approached him with good intentions, sirens of  _stranger danger!_ go off in his head regardless. "Um, I'll have to ask my parents first..."

"Why, hello there." His mother appears behind him in her light summer dress as if on cue, her arms full of more dishes and cutlery to be stashed away, gloves protecting her hands from dirt and dust. A pleasant, surprised beam stretches across her face. "Who might you be?"

Not an ounce fazed by her sudden appearance, Minhyuk straightens up at once, his smile brightening up, if that was even possible. He bows to Hyungwon's mother in greeting. "Hello! I'm Lee Minhyuk! I live in number 1103—" he points to the same direction once more— "and I saw your family moving in the other day, so I came here to introduce myself." Another bow. "Nice to meet you!"

The surprise on Hyungwon's mother's face melts into one of kindness, endeared by Minhyuk’s sincerity and politeness. "Well, I was about to ask Hyungwon to help me shelf these," says she in a gentle tone, "but we can't leave such a friendly guest alone. Have you eaten lunch yet? We have some food on the table if you'd like."

Minhyuk shakes his head. "No, I'm alright. I've eaten lunch with my family already. I, um, didn't realise you were still unpacking." He sends a glance to the boy standing between them and retreats a step back. "I was going to show him around the neighborhood, but I might be disturbing you, so—"

"Oh? You were going to show him around? That's kind of you!" The pleasant surprise returns on her face,  softening the edges of her eyes even more. "No, we're not busy at all; we only have a few things left to unpack. Please feel free to take him. If it wasn't for any of us, he'd never leave his room." She nudges her youngest son on the back of his shoulder. "Hyungwon, you'd follow him, won't you?"

"H-huh?"

Minhyuk grins.

"Where will you be going, Minhyuk?"

"I'll be showing him the park, ma'am!" This time, he points to his left, where the lane of quiet, unassuming houses end, the road curving around the large corner properties and disappearing behind pink-and-purple-dotted bushes. Lining the sides of the pavement were a few unoccupied cars, along with wooden fences, metal gates, and thick flowering hedges. In the distance, the sound of children's laughter and the creak of metal swings echo towards them. "There's a park on that side of the neighborhood where my friends and I normally play," Minhyuk explains, "and I thought it would be good to introduce him to them."

Confusion dawns on Hyungwon's face. Friends? Didn't Minhyuk say he plays alone? Who was he talking about?

"You're making friends already, Hyungwon." Shifting some dishes to the same arm, Hyungwon's mother pats her son on the back. "That's very kind of you, Minhyuk. Be sure to stay safe, alright? And please return before seven p.m. It's rather dangerous to go outside when it's dark."

"Will do, ma'am!" Minhyuk stamps one foot and salutes her before he turns to her son again, whose mouth was agape and eyes round as saucers. He offers his hand for the second time to the boy. "Hyungwon, do you wanna go now?"

Hyungwon blinks. Everything happened much too fast and he was still processing it all. His mother's expectant smile and Minhyuk's excited gaze clues him in to the proper answer, so he nods, hesitant of it all, and says, "Um...okay."

That afternoon, hours pass by as they wind through the park against a background of golden-and-red sunset, agile feet racing up the slides, wiry arms carrying them across the monkey bars, and cutting the air with their breathless laughter. Minhyuk is energetic, Hyungwon discovers, comprised  of constant bubbling ideas and an unending friendliness to his presence. The initial uneasiness of settling into an unfamiliar environment dissipates when he takes Minhyuk’s hand, is led around the park to ice cream vendors, trees with large shades, and a chirpy brook hidden in the thicker part of the park.

 _Maybe he isn't bad, after all_ , thinks Hyungwon.

Before they register it, Minhyuk's wristwatch ticks fifteen minutes to seven and the sky darkens from its daylight glow to a red-orange-pink-purple sunset. On the way home, Minhyuk chatters nonstop about life in the neighborhood while he pushes his bicycle on the pavement, and Hyungwon lends an interested listening ear. It isn't long before they part ways in front of Hyungwon's picket fence, where a faint smell of stew wafted out to greet them.

A bittersweet smile dances across Minhyuk's face. "So we're done for today?"

His newfound friend shrugs. "I guess so. Thanks for playing with me."

"No, thank you for accepting my invitation. I don't know many people here." Minhyuk purses his lips, a gray emotion casting over his eyes for a split second. "It gets lonely sometimes."

Hyungwon isn't sure of what to say. "Oh."

"Let's be friends."

"Huh?"

Sticking one hand forward and raising the pinky, Minhyuk's smile stretches into a genuine, joyful one. "Let's be friends. Forever?"

It takes Hyungwon a minute to consider his answer. Maybe eight-year-old boys like him are too old to make pinky promises, but he understands that breaking them, even those sworn on their fingers, carry consequences bigger than he can handle. Every time  _promise_ is uttered, he needs to take a step back and see if he can follow through his pledge, no matter how small or insignificant they may seem. He never wants to be on either side of a broken vow, after all.

To be friends with Minhyuk  _forever_ , though... How long will forever last?

After pondering for a minute, weighing the pros against the cons for each decision, Hyungwon nods. Nothing will go wrong between him and Minhyuk, he decides, not  when the elder is fun, sincere, and easy to be with, so links their pinkies together, tips his wrist forward until their thumbs touch.

“You will?” Happiness crawls across Minhyuk's face as steady as the bloom of a flower, washing away the hesitant gloom like clouds clearing on a sunny day. His chest puffs out in joy, the glow of a pleasant surprise radiating from his smile.

Hyungwon blinks back, surprised at the power of his answer. “Sure. We can be friends forever.”

“Thank you so much!” Two steps, open arms, and he's engulfed by Minhyuk's sudden embrace. A whiff of detergent catches Hyungwon by the nose. “You're the first one to say that.”

“R-really?”

“Yeah.” They let each other go, the warm orange of the setting sun bathing them in its hue, the sky above them darkening to a rich, dusky blue. “I’ve...I’ve never had a proper friend before. You're my first.”

Heart-wrenching sympathy that only exists within eight-year-old hearts blooms in Hyungwon's chest. “Oh.”

Hyungwon's mother had always warned him of the evening demons who eat wandering children during sunset hours, but in this space he shares with Minhyuk, nothing feels more safer than the smile of the promise they made.

  
  
  
  


_[ Can you hold me?_

_Can you make me leave my demons and my broken pieces behind? ]_

 

It doesn't take long before Hyungwon is all Minhyuk seeks out for, and Minhyuk is all Hyungwon relies on. A year after their first meeting turns into two, folds into four, then runs into six, memories wrapped in laughter and blurred chatter and tears all bundling into one. Primary school blends into middle school blends into the first buds of high school, their heights shooting up and acne dotting their faces and voices cracking at the slightest intonation of words. With an entire school year gap between the two of them, Hyungwon is prepared to face his ninth grade alone and bid goodbye to Minhyuk’s constant presence, like a toddler leaving the safety of his father’s arms as he takes his first steps.

He isn’t excited about the ordeal, but Minhyuk is.

Since the start of elementary school, Minhyuk had dreamt of being a singer to make a living, his single ambition in life to stand on stage and perform. To tell tales of love, life and wisdom through his music. To dominate an area with his mere presence, his singing able to woo crowds and attracting more. To carry on the magic of the arts, something often overlooked in such a practical world, and uphold its importance in their culture. Preparing himself for a dream yet to be achieved, Minhyuk had practiced his vocals day in and out, auditioned for numerous Performing Arts schools in their city and beyond, and prayed to the lucky stars every night before bed.

“Do you think I’ll be accepted, Won?” he asks as he whirls on his office chair, head thrown back to gaze at the ceiling above. “My vocals and techniques are pretty decent, aren’t they? Do you think I’ll make it?”

“Of course.” Hyungwon doesn’t hesitate to answer. After all, Minhyuk  _can_ sing: a few medals and trophies he’d won from singing competitions, now decorating the bedroom walls and lining the shelves, bore witness to that. He may not have been accepted into a number of talent agencies, and no one has scouted him so far, but entering music schools was his next best choice. What else is there for Hyungwon to do besides securing his confidence?

It isn’t as easy as that, because Minhyuk tilts his head in doubt. “But what if they don’t? What if the fruits of my hard work never blossom nor grow?” Crossing his palms together over his chest, he scrunches his eyes closed and purses his lips tight. “Please, God. If you’re out there, please help me get accepted into one of these schools. Please listen to my prayers. If you do, I won’t ask for anything more. I promise.”

His best friend sends him an amused smile, eyebrows raised incredulously. “Are you sure about that? Be careful of what you wish for.”

“I’m sure, Won, I’m sure. It’s all I want in life.” Gazing up at the ceiling once more, Minhyuk says, “Please. To the stars, to God, to the powers that be, please make my dreams come true.”

The answers come, one by one, in the form of rejection mails.

  
  


 

A painful sob, after being held in his chest for so long, rips through his throat and manifests into fat, salty tears that run down his cheeks, splotches onto his best friend’s pillow. The one certainty Minhyuk thought he'd grasped in his life escaped him as fast as it had come, his confidence in finding purpose in music shattering like broken glass. Instead of his ambitions paving a path for his future, he was lost, restless and confused once more, having no where else to go.

“Don't say that, Minhyuk,” soothes his best friend in his low, comforting tone, chin tucked into the crevice of his shoulder for comfort. “I’m sure there are other ways to become a singer; you don't need to enroll in specialised schools or even be accepted into agencies for that. The industry has their methods of finding talent. Besides, if music doesn't work, there are many other things you can try.”

“But that's the only thing I want to do,” Minhyuk answers, his sentences fragmented in his sobs. “It's the only thing I  _can_ and  _know_ how to do. There's nothing else for me out there.”

“That's dangerous to say.” Sitting him up against the wall, Hyungwon peers into his best friend’s eyes with his own sincere ones, searching for a depth to their gazes. “So many things in the world for you to try, and all you want to do is sing? Are you sure?”

“Of course I am! It’s been my dream since I literally learned how to talk, the one thing I’m passionate about—”

“Lie.” Hyungwon, feeling bigger than his best friend for once, stares the elder down. “We both know that’s not true. You’re passionate about many things.”

Annoyance burns the back of Minhyuk’s throat, tinges the furrows of his brows as he looks up at Hyungwon. “Shut up. Don’t act like you know me better than myself. Us being friends for years doesn't mean you can do that. Singing is the only thing I've dreamed of and the only thing I worked for, the only thing you and I  _both_ know can agree on. I-- I screwed my studies because I wanted to sing. I left sports and clubs because I wanted to sing. I stopped playing games and meeting people, even  _you_ , because I wanted to sing! Don't tell me otherwise!”

“I'm not saying you're not passionate!” A little surprised by the outburst, Hyungwon backtracks from him and raises his hands in the air. “That's not my point! Of course you worked hard and deserve credit for all you've done. I'm not taking that away from you; in fact, nobody is. All I'm saying is that it's not  _the_ only thing you can do for the rest of your life. You're good at other things too, you know-- writing, for example, and archery, and cooking and dressing up and making us laugh. You're not… you're not hopeless. You have so much left.”

 _Oh._ A wash of sudden serenity settles across Minhyuk's features when the words reach him,  brings up a new comfort through his tears.

Seeing the calm on his face, Hyungwon picks up his spiel again in softer, intimate notes. “Did you forget? The poems you showed me, the food you cooked for your siblings when your mother wasn't home, all the times you brought laughter when none of us were feeling it. I understand that you're upset from being rejected by your dream schools, and maybe you think you have no chance in becoming a singer, but it's not the end of it— it's not the end of anything. All it means is that maybe, we should search for something else within our scope?”

“But if I knew I had a chance at any of that, I would've tried hard as well—”

“That's the point. You didn't know and that's okay. It's never too late to try.” An amused smile breaks on Hyungwon’s face and interrupts the otherwise somber air. “You’re only fifteen, Minhyuk, and I just turned fourteen. We have plenty of time to figure things out.”

Silence. They absorb the weight, the meaning of his words, each sorting out his sensible logic in their heads. The wristwatch on Minhyuk’s desk ticks as three, four seconds pass by.

And then, Minhyuk announces, “You're so grown up, Won.” A bittersweet, wistful edge tugs on his features, red and damp from his crying before. He buries his face against Hyungwon's chest again, seeking the physical and emotional warmth from the boy, and tightens his arms around him. “You've grown up faster than me, and I'm not sure how to feel about that.”

Hyungwon presses his cheeks against the crown of Minhyuk's head. “It's alright. We all grow at our own paces. All you need to do is catch up.”

The next day, Minhyuk applies for Hyungwon's high school instead because  _what else am I supposed to do?_ He tries, in vain, to convince themselves that it's the next best choice, that there's no other schools better to apply to, but both of them know that the real reason was they didn't want to be separated from each other.

And to be honest, that's fine, too.

  
  
  
  
  


Spring passes by in a flash, the pages of their monthly calendar reaching the ends of its third quarter once more, and Hyungwon’s middle school life ends in a breeze. The start of his high school years progressed smoothly, enjoying the change in studying outside his neighborhood for once and, on most days, walking home with Minhyuk after school. Autumnal brown, red and gold gradually dulls, desaturates into winter white, blue and gray, and the steady pace of their academics steepens into a slope as exam season rounds the corner. Everyday brings an increasing number of homework, assignments, and self-study materials from school, engulfing whatever leisure time Hyungwon could scavenge, and more time is spent being shut alone in his room than being outside and enjoying his adolescence.

By nature, he prefers staying in than going out and his increasingly frequent absences go unnoticed by everyone else— until he lapses into a pattern of appearing once in twelve-hour intervals.

Facing his own barrage of exams, assignments academic-related worries, Minhyuk hasn’t stepped foot in Hyungwon’s house for almost a month and their texts have grown few and far in between. Though they meet each other everyday at school, proper conversations are now a luxury when both are buried in wave after wave of deadlines. It’s only when, on a quiet Friday evening, as he copies the notes of a History lesson that he’d missed a while back, do they talk again.

_Ping._

Minhyuk glances at his phone lying on one corner of his desk right as the screen turns dark.

_Ping._

A message notification covers the middle of his screen.

_Ping._

Placing his pen down in favour of picking up his phone, Minhyuk scans the notification in a glance.

Hyungwon’s name stretches across the screen, followed by a brief message:  _Hyung, can you come over for a bit?_

 _Ping._ Another message.

_I need some help._

Unlocking his phone with the slide of his thumb, Minhyuk taps on the notification and writes a quick reply.  _What is it?_

_Please come over._

Minhyuk frowns at the grave tone of the texts, far from the usual teasing, joyful chats they often exchange. Alright then. His notes are almost complete, anyway, so he could spare an easy hour or two at his best friend’s home. Closing his notebook and tidying away his stationery, he grabs the nearest jacket to drape over himself and leaves the house.

The sky is a gradient of dusky blues and gold-orange-pink when he steps outside, birds chirping their evening melody as they perch on their respective branches and a delicious aroma of beef stew leaking out from one of his neighbour’s houses. Contrary to the constant yells and laughter coming from the playground some blocks away from them, their lane was peaceful, unmoving and still— no one but Minhyuk was out and about at this hour. It’s a little chilly, too, he notes, tugging his jacket closer over his torso, so he quickens his footsteps to reach Hyungwon’s home faster.

He hasn’t rung the doorbell to his best friend’s home yet when the door swings open, greeted by none other than Hyungwon himself. Minhyuk raises a hand, grins at him by their usual way of greeting, but then the mirth immediately falters.

“Won,” he says instead. “Are you okay?”

Hyungwon, eyes wide and hair disheveled and face pale, his chest heaving up and down, shakes his head.

  
  
  


“Follow my breathing. In and out. In and out. In and out.”

Directing all his attention on the steady movements of Minhyuk’s torso, Hyungwon closes his eyes and attempts to follow the instructions until his world spins slower and his thoughts clear away. The immense fear and panic that had piled on him moments earlier begins to melt, slipping into the drains at the back of his mind, and his chest doesn’t constrict in pain anymore. Whatever numbness that flooded his body left as fast as it appeared, his senses returning back to his body, and the erratic pace of his breathing wanes.

Minhyuk hums. “Take deep, steady breaths— like that. Yep. You’re doing good, Won. Good job.”

Deep breath. Inhale, exhale. One, two, and three.

“Do you feel better now? Do you think you can speak?”

The younger shakes his head, continues to monitor his breathing according to Minhyuk’s own.

“That’s alright. Once you’re ready to talk, we can talk about it.”

It takes another five minutes before Hyungwon’s nerves are stable once more, before the nausea clears from his head, before his best friend can remove the hand on his chest and words can form on his tongue. The air around them is heavier now, quiet save for someone’s bicycle bell tinkling down the street.

Observing his best friend, Minhyuk sits him up straighter against the couch and shifts beside him so they’re comfortable. “Are you feeling better now?”

Hyungwon nods. “Y-yeah. Thank you.”

“No problem. You were the one who called, anyway. I was just doing my job.” A gentle stroke on the back of his head. “Mind telling me why that happened?”

“I don’t...I don’t know. I just kind of…did that.”

“Did anything happen to you recently? Is your family alright? Did anyone at school hurt you?”

“No, it’s not that. It’s…” Hyungwon’s face scrunches in displeasure. “It’s just exams, I guess.”

“ _Just_ exams? Nothing more than that?”

A tentative shake of the head. “I don’t think so.”

The elder stays silent for a few moments, studying the crease of his brows, the beads of sweat dotting his forehead, and the dark gray circles underlining his eyes. Hyungwon stares at his palms, wonders when his parents will get back and how much time he has to study before dinner. He really had been lucky, huh, having a panic attack right when the rest of his family left home— thank God Minhyuk was still around. Gratitude overflows his chest.

“Hey, Minhyuk,” he starts, looking up at his best friend.

But Minhyuk beats him to it. “You’ve been keeping things to yourself again, haven’t you?”

“Huh?”

“I leave you alone for two weeks and this is what happens.” Though his words were light and jovial, concern taints his gaze as he studies the boy beside him. “Have you been taking care of yourself lately?”

“Yeah, I did. What about it?”

Minhyuk narrows his eyes. “Hm. I doubt it. If you did, this probably wouldn’t have happened.”

Hyungwon blinks at him.

“Have you been staying inside for too long, too? Did you remember to eat your meals? Talk to your friends?”

“N...no, I didn’t. I’ve been busy studying for exams. And doing assignments. And finishing projects...and...well...” Hyungwon takes a deep breath. Memories of the past three weeks crashes down on him, of all the nights spent doing schoolwork, falling asleep on open-faced textbooks and hoarding energy drinks to keep him through the day. Exhaustion that seeps into his bones, pressure that sneaks into his mind when he hears of his class rankings and his mother’s constant nagging to  _do better_. There, on his family’s couch in the middle of the living room, facing Minhyuk and his earnest eyes, everything tumbles out his mouth.

“Gosh, I don’t know. Everything’s been a crazy whirlwind these days, deadline after deadline, and I can’t find time to breathe. My class is super competitive so my mom has been pushing me to maintain my ranks, but it’s  _hard_ because everyone else seems to know what they’re doing while I don’t. She thinks that I’ve been slacking off since I started playing games again, but I study everyday and night and I ask my teachers questions all the time, yet I’m still behind. The class doesn’t wait for you to catch up. I’m just— I didn’t think that my dream school would be this harsh, you know?”

A pitiful smile stretches across Minhyuk’s lips. Not a beat passes when he replies, “And you didn’t tell me any of it? No wonder this happened.”

Two arms engulf Hyungwon in a big, warm embrace and buries him in the crook of Minhyuk’s neck, the smell of his best friend’s detergent and perfume invading his senses. A hand strokes him on the crown of his head. A soft sigh that causes the slope of his shoulders to decline ever so slightly, and then, “Don’t do this anymore.”

“Do what?”

“Keeping things to yourself. Bottling it up.” Releasing each other a little too early, Minhyuk holds the younger by his shoulders and sends him a stern gaze. “We know you can’t handle stress on your own. You need someone to talk to, Hyungwon. I think we’ve done this enough times to know that by now.”

Hyungwon hangs his head. “I’m sorry. I got caught up in everything, so  I just... forgot about that.”

“Don’t apologise to me. You don’t need to apologise to anyone.” A pat on the head, eyes set on a steady gaze and boring deep holes into his own. “But don’t overstress on this. I think both of us signed up much more than we bargained for when we enrolled there, but that doesn’t mean you should hurt yourself while taking care of things. You’re a smart boy. You can always figure everything out and achieve your goals. There’s nothing for you to worry yourself sick about.”

“I don’t...I don’t know. I have so much to catch up on—”

“Sh.” Minhyuk presses a finger to his lips. “None of that now. We’re not going to think of stressful things. You need a break. After all, when was the last time I saw you outside of school? It may be exam season, but you can’t live a life going between two places back and forth. Let loose a little.”

“But exams—”

“At this point, I think you’ve done more than enough studying to pass your exams. How many has it been since you last took a break? Since you slept for at least five hours a day? For the time being, that’s enough studying.  _You’re_ enough. So don’t worry about it.”

Hyungwon glances at his hand again, where marks of blue and black ink, as well as the splatter of correction ink, decorate either side. A tiny formula is scribbled on the back of his left palm, barely visible his skin despite being written a day before. He thinks of the state of his room upstairs, having to wade through loose-leaf papers and open notebooks and a pile of textbooks on the floor as a result of all this mess. He thinks of his mom’s nagging and the constant overflow of information that he’s crammed into his head over the three weeks. He thinks of waking up this morning and staring at the ceiling, wondering if he would spent the rest of his high school years this way.

When he comes to, Minhyuk is staring at him with one hand offered for him to take. His best friend is equally tired, judging from the heavy bags underlining his eyes and the stress acne dotting his face, but there’s no traces of tension on a single muscle. Only a genuine warmth leaks from the smile on his face. “So what do you say about coming over for some games?”

  
  
  
  


_[ You make my heart shake, bend and break_

_But I can't turn away ]_

 

Somewhere along the line, the boundaries between  _best friends_ and  _more than that_ disappears into ambiguity and fades into the years of past. Minhyuk, after all these years, still yearns for Hyungwon’s gentle, reliable company, enjoying the world at a leisurely pace where his best friend is involved. Hyungwon, too, never finds himself bored with Minhyuk’s jest and energetic, carefree spirit, his days painted much brighter and more vivid wherever Minhyuk appears. Neither of them remember when they start searching for more beyond that, when Hyungwon’s reliable company transforms into emotional support and when Minhyuk’s energy bursts becomes a source of happiness. When their teasing gazes weighs heavier in emotional depth, when their friendly laughter causes red to rise in their cheeks, and when the grip of their intertwined hands becomes too intimate for them to handle.

This realisation comes to mind one night, while they bask in a one a.m moonlight in a private corner of the playground, Hyungwon’s legs stretched out before him while he leans against the trunk of a tree, Minhyuk’s head lying on his lap. Soft breaths and the occasional flutter of bird wings fill the space between, each lost in the brambles of their own thoughts as they indulge in the midnight tranquility.

As Minhyuk enjoys the thin fingers carding through his hair, he tilts his head to glance at his best friend above him, whose face was washed in an ethereal hue of the grey moonlight. Thoughts rush into his head before he can discern any of it, lips parting open and words tumble out of his mouth before he could catch them.

“Hyungwon, can I try something?”

Hyungwon, dropping his gaze from the large, full moon hovering in the sky among a scatter of stars, raises his eyebrows in question. “What is it?”

And then Minhyuk reaches up, one hand coming to cup his face on the side, crawling through the space between them as steady as the rise and fall of the moon in the night sky. Closer and closer their faces reach, breaths warming as the distance decreases, until Hyungwon lets his eyes close and a pair of dry, soft lips press against his.

  
  
  
  


_[ And it's driving me wild_

_You're driving me wild ]_

 

“I think...I love you.”

The confession stumbles out of Hyungwon's mouth when least expected, like honest words spilling from a drunk man's tongue; except, when he's sixteen and Minhyuk is seventeen, neither of them are allowed to hold a can of alcohol, much less drink it, and the confession is uttered between two very sober, very much awake boys.

It catches them by surprise— not the content of the confession, really, when there’s nobody to fool— but the instance of it. When they sit side by side, an arm's length spanning the distance between them as Minhyuk curls up against the wall, hands grasping his Gameboy tight, while Hyungwon balances a dog-eared comic book on his knees. When the distant whirrs of cars passing by their neighbourhood that signs the coming of the rush hour. When a delicious scent of homemade cooking slips in through the narrow cracks of the doorframe and reminds them that dinner is about to come. When they’re buried in blankets of familiarity, not ready to let a new development crash its tranquil surface.

After years of friendship blurring into romance, after wading too much in the pool of boundaries that separates platonic from romantic love, it isn’t the perfect time to pour out his emotions within three words, but Hyungwon can't deny the pinks and reds and roses and perfume that floods his chest. Can’t deny that Minhyuk’s smile wraps his day. Can’t deny that Minhyuk’s laugh clears away the gloom like an omen breaking through thick storm clouds. Can’t deny that being next to Minhyuk feels like home.

Can’t deny that there’s no other perfect time to say it, because Minhyuk smiles back at him with the intensity of his own feelings, shared and reciprocated. His own pinks, reds, roses and perfume pour into the stretch of his lips as he leans forward, tentative and shy but certain, towards Hyungwon’s face.

“I think I love you, too.”

For the second time in their lives, they kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> to my recipient: hello! ty for the prompt! i've only listened to fools before so when i watched the mv trilogy while plotting for this fic, i found myself enjoying the songs more than i thought i would! since the mv was a little heavy, the fic ended up being a little heavy as well ;; though i started the fic very early, things came up while i was writing and some parts may be less than satisfactory than the others ;; but i hope you liked reading it regardless!    
> 


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